Tastelessly in some half way decent hotel in central London, on a Thursday lunchtime, sniffing coke off the half way decent six pack of some Jewish millionaire. Or with class at the Dorchester for tea with your girlfriends who have all set the dates for their Spring 2015 weddings.
By reliving your youth at sweaty gigs on Tuesday nights in Converse trainers and skinny jeans at Koko Camden. And holding a Mad Hatters dinner party where the only rule is to bring a mad hat and a mad secret to share to all.
Waking up in a stranger’s bed and being fully clothed and utterly elated (and surprised) by your grown up behavior. Or waking up in a stranger’s bed not even remotely fully clothed in the clutches of a very naked man and being utterly elated (and surprised) by your reckless, if not enjoyable, behaviour.
Bask in the glory of making great plans such as Mardi Gras in Brazil or even Paris for the weekend on a whim because we’re not working around each other’s lives. Work hard and work late and pour every ounce into your job. At least for a week or two. Have time to read. A lot. Read books about lady parts or traveling the world. Grow your leg hair long and don’t deep condition your hair for once. Learn to cook for one. Wear your laundry day underwear and sleep in the same tshirt you slept in when you were 14. Enjoy the time you can go for a whole weekend without saying a word. Watch back to back marathons of the tackiest American sitcoms Netflix has to offer you in a fort you built in your bed. Whichever way you wear single, wear it well and wear it with pride.